The golden light of the Tuscan sunset suddenly felt like a spotlight on a stage where we were hopelessly exposed. The woman in red, Isabella Rossi, didn't flinch at Keifer's threat. She just smiled, her eyes lingering on Alexander, who was standing protectively in front of his little sister.
The Harvest of Blood
POV: Jay
I didn't wait for her five seconds to be up. My "Savage" instinct had already mapped the room. The four men were professionals, but they were overconfident. They thought they were dealing with a retired couple and a chef.
"Percy, take the kids to the pantry. There's a manual release for the floor cellar," I commanded, my voice cold and sharp as a scalpel.
"But Jay—" Percy started.
"Go!" I roared.
As Percy ushered the kids away, I didn't look at Keifer. I didn't need to. We were two halves of the same lethal machine. As the first man in black reached for his holster, Keifer lunged. He didn't use a gun; he used the iron fire poker with a brutal, bone-crushing efficiency that proved the "Monster" was never truly asleep.
I moved for Isabella. I didn't care about the guards. I wanted the head of the snake.
POV: Keifer (The King Unbound)
I felt the adrenaline surge through my veins, hot and familiar. It was better than any wine. One guard tried to tackle me, but I caught him mid-air, slamming him into the marble pillar. I heard the satisfying crack of ribs.
"You thought a vineyard made me soft?" I hissed, catching the second guard's wrist and twisting it until the bone snapped. "I built the Black Box. This house is just a hobby. But my family? My family is my religion."
I saw out of the corner of my eye that Jay was a whirlwind of silk and steel. She had smashed the wine bottle over a guard's head and was now using the jagged neck to keep Isabella pinned against the wall
Don't move," Jay whispered to her, the glass inches from Isabella's jugular. "I know exactly where the carotid artery is, Isabella. I could make you bleed out in forty-five seconds, and not even the best surgeon in Italy could save you."
POV: Jay (The Surgeon's Ultimatum)
Isabella's breath was hitching, her polished exterior finally cracking. "The Circle... they won't stop, Jay. You can't kill a legacy."
"I don't need to kill a legacy," I replied, my hand steady as a rock. "I just need to kill you. And then the next person they send. And the one after that. I have a lot of glass bottles in this cellar, Isabella. I can do this all year."
Keifer stood behind me, the two remaining guards unconscious at his feet. He was breathing hard, a smear of blood on his cheek, looking like the god of war.
"Give me the names," Keifer commanded. "The names of the First Circle's council. If you do, I'll let you walk out of here. If you don't, I'll let my wife finish her 'surgery'."
Isabella looked at me—at the cold, clinical lack of mercy in my eyes—and she broke. She realized that while Keifer was a monster of strength, I was a monster of precision. And precision is much harder to escape.
The Tactical Retreat
Ten minutes later, Isabella was gone, fleeing down the dirt path in her red car, leaving behind her broken men and a list of names that would be their death warrants.
I dropped the broken bottle, my hands finally starting to shake. I felt Keifer's arms wrap around me, pulling me back against his chest.
"You're okay," he whispered, his heart thumping against my back. "The kids are safe."
"We can't stay here, Keifer," I said, looking at the beautiful foyer now stained with blood. "The vineyard is compromised. We're Watsons. We don't get 'normal'."
Keifer turned me around, cupping my face. "I'm sorry, wifey. I tried to give you the peace you deserved."
"I don't want peace if it means being a target," I said, leaning my forehead against his. "I want the Black Box. I want our walls. I want to be the one hunting them, not the other way around."
Keifer's silver eyes flared with a dark, proud light. "Then we go home. But we aren't just going back to hide. We're going back to finish it. We're going to wipe the First Circle off the map so our children never have to look at a crate of wine with fear again."